Lost in the winter

The wind howled like an eerie horror movie, a howl like a wolf in the night lurking for his prey. Every time the wind blew you couldn’t see your hand in front of your face. Night was coming fast and the wind stopped blowing suddenly. All she could hear was the gentle hiss of snowflakes touching the ground. Walking through the park everyday in the fall brought her to a different winter. Walking through the snow sounded like walking flour. The bench, so still, sits where she sat so many times. She sat there again. There was a lot of attention to when it was fall and she was falling. The lake effect snowflakes were so big, so lush and full of life, floating around in the evening sky and sticking to her eyelashes. No sooner it all became clear to her, the wind blew again. Pushing against her back on the bench, the wind was forcing her to move forward. Still she sat, fighting against the blowing wind, the growing wind. She wished for the fall, when the leaves were bright red and orange, wondering what it would be like if they’d had held hands a while longer. A vision played over again when she sat on the bench happy and with peace. Snapping branches from the trees behind broke her memory. She opened her eyes. Another howl of the wind and another loss of sight as it became night. Her sneakers were filled with snow but not a care in the world. She was lost, alone and thinking there was nothing left to believe in anymore. It hurt too much to cry.

He stood watching from the hill behind. He stood in the background waiting for the right time. He was sad to see her so misplaced, so confused. He didn’t like seeing her so alone. “Why did you come here?” he called out. His voice echoed into the night. He shouted out again “Why did you come here?”

She jumped up and stumbled to the snow covered ground. With her bare hands gripping the icy cold snow and trying to stand, she frantically asked, “Who’s there?” She couldn’t see her hand in from of her face. His hand reached from behind for her shoulder and asked again softly “Why did you come here?”

His was a peaceful voice. A voice to trust when all there’s to have is faith in the blinding snow.

“I’m lost”
“You’re not lost”
“I don’t know my way back to where I was before”
“You’re not lost. You just don’t want to be found.”
“How do you know that?”
“I know. Believe me. I know all about you. You can’t go back where you came from. You can only go forward from here.”

His hand stayed on her shoulder until she turned around. The wind ceased again and he was becoming clear. Dressed in black, he looked like the night. He didn’t look like fall on a park bench except for the blue eyes she would know anywhere. Those eyes talking of love. The eyes she could read like a book.

“It’s you!”
“Yes. It’s me.”
“How can that be?”
“I have always been here. I knew someday you’d come back too.”
“I just… I just…”
“Just what?”

He held her arms to not let her go.

“I, I just got lost”
“You’re not lost. You’re never lost with me.”

The last time they met in the park was on a clear autumn day, a beautiful day. It was the most unsurpassed romantic story ever written between the two of them. A day of sweet September, a day she thought she could change if given the chance. The wind blew hard and she lost her vision of him. She could feel him being pulled away from her arms. Tightly hanging on to his coat, they were being forced apart. 

“Wait! Don’t leave me”
“I can’t hold on”
“Yes you can. I’m here and you’re going to be fine.”
“I’m tired”
“Don’t go to sleep! Stay with me. Please. Please stay with me.”

The grip they held was broken like a snapped tree limb. Then he was gone. She reached out for him blindly, sobbing. Turning to the right, reaching. Turning to the left reaching for his hand. Turning to the right reaching for something to hold on to again. He was lost in the winter. She was lost without him. Like that beautiful fall day, she knew he was lost forever. Falling to her knees and calling out his name, she gripped the snow with her hands. Clutching the icy snow. Nothing hurt more than to have him taken away again. She knew he’d never come back.

The wind stopped blowing and she caught her breath. In the silence of the night she heard his voice. “You can only go forward from here.” There next to her were footprints leading away from their park bench like a winding road. There in the moonlight her legs felt frozen but somehow she rose up and followed the footsteps away from the bench and out of the park. The single set of steps became a winding road of two. The weather cleared as she reached the empty city street. She stopped where the footprints stopped. She was finally home.

 

© Fed-Up in Buffalo & fedup.wnymedia.net. This story is not to be rewritten or used under any circumstances without my expressed permission.